


The Name Game

by livloveel



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livloveel/pseuds/livloveel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How janitors play an important role in our lives.</p><p>Originally composed in 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Name Game

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic I wrote back in 2006, so apologies for my teen-self. I know it's all a little childish and that the writing just got less and less descriptive, but there you go. 
> 
> I'm so glad that I *think* my writing has gotten better now that I'm an actual adult...

She watched curiously as the little girl continued to scrawl meaningless words onto the dull computer paper in front of her. A simple piece of paper, once devoid of any meaning, now became her very subject of attention. Strands of ink littered the surface, but below the shell of the thin parchment was their significance, their life.

She found herself meaninglessly drawing on her own paper, long scratches of black on white, making unclean and dark something that was once pure and untainted. Her hand fluidly moved in soft strokes in the middle of the paper, but once it reached the outside they became harsher and unconnected.

She stopped when she felt a set of small eyes upon her. She fell inwardly with the observation that the eyes were supposed to be full of innocence and gayety, and instead were dirtied with the stains of life and betrayal. But as she pulled herself up from the recesses of the girl's eyes she also noticed something else. Something else on the very surface. Curiosity.

"What you doing?"

"Same thing you are, writing."

"No, you're drawing scratches. You can't read scratches."

"Most people can't," Olivia quietly sighed to herself.

"I can't either. Are you going to ask me what I wrote?"

"Absolutely. I could just read it myself, but I would much rather hear it from you."

"Nope," the little girl said, grinning with a sense of small triumph.

"No? Why not?"

"You silly. I will read. You asked me to. But you can't read it."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's in a secret code," the little girl said, proudly smiling and at the same time quietly daring Olivia to try to decipher her paper.

Olivia made a show of taking the paper and trying her hardest to try to make out the words.

"I guess you're right, you got me there. Can you tell me what it says?" Olivia asked as she handed the paper back to the little girl next to her.

"Yep!"

The little girl preceded to tell Olivia the story of a princess and prince in love in the heart of a terrible land called "Bad Manhattan." After the girl was finished, Olivia realized that the story didn't help the investigation much. Other than the mention of some evil kings and dark forests, which could have had possibly held some deeper meaning, she couldn't really get a read on what exactly was making the girl hurt like she was obviously hurting.

"That was a great story Rebecca. Do I mind if I ask you another question?"

"Um…no. What is it?" Rebecca asked a little hesitantly.

"Can you write in any other code? Or language? Can you write in English? The only writing I can understand is English, unfortunately."

"Yeah! I'm the best writer in my grade and I'm even learning how to write in cursive!"

"That is wonderful! Could you write me a story about you life?"

At this the girl gave a slight frown and Olivia knew she had asked the wrong question. She quickly sought for a different one.

"Or, how about you make up a story that includes people you know? Like, you can make yourself Cinderella and someone you don't like can be the evil stepsister or something?"

Rebecca smiled at this and took another sheet of paper. She started writing but then frowned once again. Olivia moved to speak, but the girl cut her off.

"It takes me awhile to write so much. I'll just write down a really short story."

Olivia smiled at her and nodded her head. She watched the little girl write and noticed a misspelling.

"Hey, Rebecca, how do you spell your name?" she asked.

"R…E…B…B…E…C…A," she said proudly.

Olivia wondered if she should continue her questioning even further. When she looked at the paper again and realized that that was the only misspelling so far, she decided to go ahead.

"Oh no! You misspelled your name!"

"No I didn't."

"I think you did. R…O…B…E…C…C..A."

The little girl laughed once again and blushed slightly.

"No, silly. Robecca's someone different," she said before she turned her head back to her paper.

"Who's Robecca?"

Again the girl blushed before answering, "Well, it's not really someone. It's a mix of two people. Me and Rob."

"Who's Rob?" Olivia smiled inwardly as Rebecca blushed once again. She thinks she knows who 'Rob' is.

"A boy from school," she shortly responded. Olivia realized that Rebecca liked this 'Rob,' and that the Rob made her happy. This line of questioning couldn't go further unless Rob was the source of Rebecca's conflict.

"Honey, do you like Rob?"

Rebecca Tunde seemed to think for awhile and then sadly answered, "Yeah…but he doesn't like me."

"Why doesn't Rob like you sweetie?"

The little girl looked ashamed before she quietly answered, "Because his daddy likes me instead."

 

\--------------------

Olivia sighed as she leaned back softly into her chair. It had been a hell of a long day. Rob's dad had received the punishment he deserved, but Rebecca would never be the same. Instead of Rob not liking Rebecca, he now hated her. She had made his dad go away, and he let her know this the next day after the trial at school.

Rebecca was clearly upset when she came into the squad room later that day with her mother.

"Livia, I just needed to ask you a question."

"Of course, what is it Rebecca?"

"You know those papers I wrote on? Did you throw them away?"

"Yes, why?" Olivia asked. She had found Rebecca's paper intriguing, but knowing that it really had no effect on the investigation, and that the girl probably didn't want it back, she had decided to dispose of it. She had called Rebecca's mother to ask her if she wanted the papers, because clearly they held meaning of Rebecca's life, but her mother had just agreed to them being disposed of.

"Because it's not real. Robecca's not real. It doesn't exist anymore. He doesn't want it to. There is no Robecca."

With that the girl left the room by herself and ran back to her mother, leaving Olivia sitting there.

\--------------------

Olivia pulled herself out of her memory and looked around the squad room. Her floor was silent, with only a few lights on. She had stayed later than everyone to make up the paper load that was awaiting her. She had always been a stickler for getting her reports done on time, but because of the recent case she was behind.

As she finished with one her reports, she looked to her desk piled with papers done and papers needed to be dealt with. She felt a sudden burst of inspiration and of childish fun. She grabbed a blank sheet of paper and pen and she started to write.

_Rob._

_Rebecca._

_Robecca._

_Olivia._

No one.

_Match approved._

_Olivia_

_Dave._

_Davia._

_Match on hold._

_Olivia_

_Elliot._

_Ellivia._

_Data error. Processing._

She stared at the paper, rolling her eyes at her childish antics. She had called Dave, a guy she had been seeing for a few weeks, the other day and he had told her that he was tired of never being able to see her. Typical. Repetitive. She wasn't surprised. Instead she was rather bored of the same old excuse, the same old reality.

She looked at the bottom of the paper and stared, wide-eyed. She hadn't realized she had included Elliot on the paper and she quietly chastised herself. She smiled at the combined name. It wasn't very creative, but it was cute. And it was the only time she knew she would be seeing it.

She drastically crumbled up the paper and threw it away, then gathering her stuff to head out. Although she knew she didn't have everything with her, she started to head out anyway. She had lost so much in this room…so much hope and encouragement. The room, the cases, and the people just sucked it right out of her and left her there, slightly defeated. Yet she kept coming back for more. She knew that tomorrow would not be any different.

\--------------------

The janitor ran into the squad room and started to quickly empty the contents of all the trash cans. He was late. Really late. He had slept in and woke up two hours after his schedule started. Knowing that the police station was a mess and would take forever to clean, he swiftly arrived in hopes of not being caught. So far he was on a luck streak.

He poured the trash into a large trash bin quickly, running the rolling trash bin every which way. He was making his own mess. The bin rolled into a trashcan that he forgot, spilling papers all over the gray floor. He quietly swore to himself and quickly picked up the remains of the fallen garbage. He finished his rounds on the floor and continued onto the next. Today was hell.

What he didn't realize was that he had forgotten a single ball of paper next to one of the desks. The very paper that should have been the first to have been thrown away.

\--------------------

Elliot walked slowly into the squad room, more than three hours early. He had forgotten to finish the Tunde case, which he really should of finished yesterday morning. Now was his time to make up for it.

His steps landed heavily on the floor and he rubbed his eyes to fight away the sleep that still attacked him. He looked around and noticed that although the room was clean, the chairs were practically flung around the room.

"Stupid janitor."

He walked around the room, pushing the chairs back in and dreading the work day that was quickly sneaking up on him. He continued pushing the chairs back in when he heard a soft crunch. He looked down and picked up his foot, realizing that he had stepped on a piece of paper.

Knowing that he was right at his desk and that the paper was probably his (all he could do was misstype a report), he opened it up to see what it was. His eyes flitted across the paper.

At the first word he recognized Olivia's handwriting. He knew it was about the case, but he had never seen her original notes on the case, like this appeared to be. As he read the next few words he was taken aback.

Her and 'No One' were a perfect match? At the moment he would agree. They always seemed to be hooking up days after they broke up. But this time there was…what was his name?

David. Scum. One in the same. Although he felt bad that Olivia couldn't keep the relationship, he has happy because frankly, he didn't care for the guy. Davia? He chuckled. Only Liv.

The last words on the page made him almost loose his footing. He assured himself he would never look at their names the same way ever again. _Data error? Processing? Ellivia?_

He smiled outwardly and walked over to his adjoining desk. He picked up a pen and added another column to the paper.

_Olivia._

_Elliot_.

 _Olliot_.

 _Program Running_.

He folded the paper and stuck it in her top desk drawer. 

He liked Ellivia better.

 

Finis


End file.
